


Too Little

by elisetales



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Open Relationships, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-21 21:19:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/905061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisetales/pseuds/elisetales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cain struggles to come to terms with Abel's relationship with Deimos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Little

**Author's Note:**

> So, Em wanted this and I did my very best with her prompt, which was basically Deimos/Abel are sleeping together while Abel is also with Cain, and the two of them end up together and... Cain isn't very happy about it. This turned out really Abel/Cain-centric, though, so I hope that's okay!
> 
>  
> 
> **Names:**
> 
>  
> 
> Ethan = Abel
> 
> Nikolai (I'm trying out this new name and have been meaning to for a while, I hope you don't mind it!) = Cain
> 
> Aleks = Deimos

Nikolai knows Ethan’s got company the second he gets in the door, kicks off his boots and notices a second pair in the alcove, far too small to belong to him or Ethan. He lets his keys jangle a little too loudly as he twists them free of the lock, lets the door slam closed behind him—and still, it’s not warning enough.

They’re still tangled together by the time he reaches the living room. He stands there in the archway for a moment and just  _stares_ —Ethan’s still sprawled out all over Aleks’ lap, arms around his neck, Aleks’ hands groping his ass. They’re both pink-cheeked, breathless and guilty-looking, or at least that’s the way Nikolai imagines they look. But then he knows Ethan doesn’t have a lot to feel guilty about, not when Nikolai had agreed to this.

"God, Nik," Ethan mutters when he notices Nikolai standing there like an idiot. He's quick to pull his t-shirt down over his hips, unhooks one of his legs from around Aleks' lap and sits down next to him instead. He clears his throat and awkwardly tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. "You're home early." Aleks avoids Nikolai's eyes. 

"Yeah." Nikolai tries to think of something else to say but can't. "I tried texting you," he adds after a long pause, too busy counting each new bruise on Ethan's pale neck.

"Oh. I must have left my phone in the... Never mind. I'm sorry, I should have—"

"Forget it." Nikolai shrugs off his jacket, tosses it down on one of the empty armchairs and sits down next to Aleks, picks up the remote from the coffee table and flicks through the channels, pumps up the volume. He can feel the two of them watching him as he settles on the nature channel. He ignores them and puts his feet up on the table, balances the remote on his lap and crosses his arms.  

"Aleks, do you want to...?" Aleks mumbles something in reply and soon they're both on their feet, fingers twisted together, heading for the door. "I'm going to see Aleks out; I'll be back soon," Ethan tells the back of Nikolai's head.

Nikolai shrugs, picks up the remote and turns the volume up a little higher. He doesn't hear them leave.

* * *

When Ethan gets back in he's wearing Aleks' jacket. His lips are red, swollen; either bruised with kisses or sucking too much dick. "Hey," he says, sitting down next to Nikolai on the couch and pressing into his side. "Are you alright? I'm sorry, you just seemed a little... I don't know. I just wanted to make sure you're alright about everything."

Nikolai makes a face and leans away from him, keeps his eyes fixed to the television and ignores Ethan's hand on his forearm. "M'fine," he grunts. He pushes Ethan's hand away, watches from the corner of his eye as Ethan pulls it back into himself and settles it between them instead, probably angling for Nikolai to reach down and hold hands with him. He won't.

"Nik, are we going to talk?" Ethan asks a short while later.

Nikolai shrugs a shoulder. "Depends. What do you want to talk about?"

Ethan slides closer to him on the couch, until he's nearly in Nikolai's lap. "I don't know," he says on a sigh, and rests his temple on Nikolai's shoulder, rubs his cheek against the fabric of his t-shirt and inhales. "How was your night?"

"Fine," Nikolai lies, doesn't tell Ethan he got into too many fights kicking drunk assholes out of the bar, pulled his fucking shoulder out and that it's hurting him to have Ethan rest his head there. Ethan'll only accuse him of being moody for a different reason and Nikolai's too tired for it, too tired to want to fight and make-up when all he wants is to be left alone, to go to bed—maybe have Ethan go down on him for a bit first, help him unwind enough to sleep. He's in a good mood now and might even do it if Nikolai asks him nicely.

He kisses Nikolai's shoulder and says gently, "OK. You want a beer?" Nikolai grunts a reply and Ethan gets up, finally giving his fucking shoulder some relief, leaves his phone sitting there on the couch against Nikolai's thigh.

It buzzes while he's gone. Nikolai stares at it a while then picks it up, clicks on the tiny message notification even though he knows Ethan'll be fuming if he catches him, hates it when Nikolai "invades his privacy," which Nikolai's always reasoned is just another way of saying he's got things he wants to hide. And Nikolai can't stand it when Ethan lies to him, when he decides he wants to start keeping secrets. Nikolai won’t let him.

They've got plans tomorrow. Nikolai scrolls through Ethan's message history and quickly learns he's planning on taking Aleks out on the bike, wants to spend the day with him. Nikolai can't remember the last time he did that with Ethan, went anywhere just the two of them, spent any length of time alone just  _being_  alone, and together. He thinks he might miss it, or maybe just misses him.

He's about to put the phone down, bored already by how fucking cutesie the two of them are, when one of Ethan's texts catch his eye. He stares at a while, reads it over and over again, until it's imprinted in his mind and he's sure he'll see it even when his eyes are closed. 

He puts the phone down when he hears Ethan shuffling around behind him, drapes his arm across the back of the couch and returns his attention to the TV. Ethan sits down next to him, presses the beer into his hand and rests his head on Nikolai’s chest instead, drapes an arm across his lap. Nikolai lets him sit there like that, watches some documentary about sharks and doesn’t say another word until Ethan starts nuzzling at him, kissing him; first his neck and then his jaw, his ear, his cheek, his lips.

“Don’t kiss me.” It’s out before he has a chance to think it through, consider why he doesn't want it in the first place. Ethan stares at him with a dumb look on his face, all wide-eyed and hurt, like Nikolai’s gone and slapped the stupid out of him.

“Why not?”

Nikolai doesn’t have an answer for him. He stares at Ethan’s mouth, can’t help thinking about where it’s been. “Just don’t,” he says. He takes a sip of his beer and keeps watching the television, though it’s a blur to him now, a mess of noise and color and shapes. Ethan doesn’t try to touch him again.

* * *

He’s lying awake in the dark when Ethan comes into the bedroom, slips into bed beside him all warm and sweet-smelling and freshly showered. He drapes an arm across Nikolai’s chest, hooks a leg over his, presses up close from behind and puts his cheek to Nikolai’s. “Can I kiss you now?” he whispers. When Nikolai doesn’t respond he says, “Niki?”

Nikolai answers him with a kiss. He pulls Ethan to him with a hand at the back of his head, kisses him slow and deep, twists their tongues together, tries to make it good for him so that it makes up for before.

Ethan sighs into his mouth, wriggles closer and slips his hand up Nikolai’s t-shirt, rubs his palm in circles across his chest. Nikolai can feel him hard against hip; he untangles his hand from Ethan’s hair and grips his cock through his thin pyjama bottoms instead, nips Ethan’s lip and kisses him again when Ethan moans and starts humping his hand.

He pushes Ethan off long enough to get his body underneath him, get both their clothes off, doesn’t give a fuck either that he’s stiff and tired and aching when he needs Ethan this badly, wants to be with him, inside him. He leans over him to fumble at the bedside table for the lube, finds it and wets his fingers, kisses Ethan hard and then pushes one of his knees up to his chest, makes him hold it there.

Nikolai knows the second he pushes the first finger in—Aleks has been inside him. Ethan tenses beneath him, probably embarrassed, dreading the moment Nikolai decides to say something about it. He doesn’t, though, just keeps going; adds a second finger and then a third, makes sure Ethan’s open and wet and ready for him.

He gasps when Nikolai pushes into him, locks his arms tight around Nikolai’s neck and hooks a leg around his waist. Nikolai closes his eyes, keeps his mouth on Ethan’s neck while he fucks him, breathes him in, loses himself in the feeling of Ethan wrapped around him, of being in him.

He kisses Ethan’s neck, presses his mouth to each new little bruise he’d seen there earlier. Bites him, too; hard enough to leave his own mark, hard enough that Ethan likes it, shudders against him, pushes up to meet Nikolai’s thrusts and rub his hard cock up against his belly. He pushes a hand through Nikolai’s hair, kisses the side of his face, runs a palm down his back and lets it rest on Nikolai’s ass.

“God, Nik…”

He knows Ethan’s close already, they both are. He angles his head to meet Ethan’s mouth, kisses him and fucks him harder, braces himself on one arm, his shoulder aching, and jerks Ethan off rough, the way he likes it. He’s so close, hard and wet, and it doesn’t take more than a few pulls before he’s coming, hot and thick all over Nikolai’s hand.

Nikolai lets go of him and fucks him fast and hard to finish, doesn’t want to drag it out when he knows Ethan’s probably sore, too sensitive to put up with it much longer. Not long after, Nikolai comes inside him with a shudder, collapses on top of him, face in Ethan’s neck, and tries to catch his breath. Ethan kisses his shoulder, drags a soothing hand up and down his back.

“You’re heavy,” he says after a while. Nikolai can hear the smile in his voice.

He rolls off of him and onto his back, pulls Ethan onto his chest a beat later. Ethan rests a hand over his heart and Nikolai covers it with his own, holds it, figures he should give Ethan this much when he knows he'd been a prick earlier.  

Ethan’s warm and pliant against him; he presses tired, weak little kisses to Nikolai’s skin and says, “Are you sleeping?”

Nikolai grunts to tell him he’s not.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you all day,” Ethan tells him after a pause. His tone is gentle, hesitant. It tells Nikolai he’s been waiting a while to say something to him, just wanted to save it until Nikolai was in a better mood.

“Yeah?”

“Mm. Aleks told me something earlier.”

“Bet he tells you a lot of things.”

Ethan's so quiet Nikolai wonders if he's even going to speak again when he finally says, “He says you slept together once. You never told me that.” He kisses Nikolai’s shoulder after that, pushes up even closer, and Nikolai can only guess he’s not mad about it; that Nikolai had never told him about Aleks, could never bring himself to do it.

“Yeah, we did. So? It wasn’t important. Meant nothing to me.”

“Oh.” Ethan’s quiet for a while until he says, “I think he misses you, you know. I’ve been thinking, maybe the two of you could—”

“No.” Nikolai snaps it, feels Ethan flinch away from him.

“Niki—”

“Just leave it alone, Ethan.”

“Alright.” Ethan exhales a shaky breath but relaxes against him again, puts his head back down on Nikolai’s chest. “I’m sorry for bringing it up, Nik, I just… You never talk about him. You don’t want to. And I can tell you’re upset with me. And with him. I don’t want that. I know you said you were fine, but you’re not the same with me. I want to know how to fix it; just tell me what you need me to do.”

Nikolai wishes he could make him stop talking, doesn’t want to hear another word out of Ethan’s mouth, wants him to stop being so fucking gentle all the time like he _pities_ him for something. “Nothing,” he says finally. “Just stop talking to me about him. He’s nothing to me. I said you could fuck him; I never said I wanted to talk about it.”

“Niki…” Ethan sighs and sits up. Nikolai can picture the disappointed look on his face. “I wish you wouldn’t talk about him like that. And I wish you wouldn’t snap at me when _I_ talk about him. He’s a part of my life, too. And just for the record, Nik, I never needed your permission to sleep with him.” Nikolai knows then he’ll be going to bed angry.

Ethan lies down again, facing away from him this time, and Nikolai doesn’t know if he wants to get up and leave or hold him again. They both lay there in silence for a while; Nikolai listens to Ethan breathe, can tell he’s not asleep yet.

“It’s changing, isn’t it?” He isn’t sure why he says it, why he'd thought to say anything at all, but wishes now he could take it back.

“What do you mean?”

Nikolai waits a while. When he closes his eyes, he thinks of Ethan’s text to Aleks, what it said and what he knows it means. “It’s not just fucking,” he answers. “You love him. You want to be with him, like you’re with me. Don’t you?” He says it like an accusation.

When Ethan speaks again, his voice is small. “Is that so wrong? Why can’t I be with him? Why can’t I love him and love you, too? Why does that bother you so much?”

Nikolai wants to tell him it’s because he doesn’t understand it; can’t accept this if he can’t understand it—how it’s possible to love two people at the same time and not love one of them less. He doesn’t, though; doesn’t want to say another word and have to listen to Ethan tell him fucking anything about Aleks again.

He guesses they’re fighting now so he just doesn't answer, puts his back to Ethan and calls him a filthy name in Russian, drags most of the coverlet over to his side. He catches Ethan’s sharp intake of breath and wonders then if he'd understood it, wonders if Aleks has been teaching him a little more than just how to suck better dick.

* * *

When he wakes up, he's alone. It's usually like this in the mornings, Ethan always up before him, doesn't have to work the graveyard shift at the bar and so can afford to keep to his own schedule. But the silence is different this time and Nikolai isn't sure how he knows it, but he does. When he pads out to the living room, he knows he's right: Ethan's phone charger's gone. When he heads back to their bedroom to check their closet, some of Ethan's clothes are missing—not everything, but enough that he could be gone for weeks and not have to come back for anything new. 

His heart's in his throat by the time he reaches the kitchen. He goes straight for the fridge, knows Ethan too well, had been sure the second he'd realized Ethan had left him that Ethan would have put a note somewhere for him, owed him that much at least. He pulls it out from underneath one of Ethan's stupid tourist-y magnets and unfolds it, has to steady his shaking hands long enough to fucking read it.

_I can't stay if I'm hurting you. I need time to figure this out. Please give that to me. I love you. - E_

Nikolai reads it a few more times before he makes his way over to the sink, takes out the two wineglasses sitting in there and drops them onto the floor, lets them shatter all over the tiles. He turns on the tap and drops Ethan's note into the running water, watches the ink bleed until he can no longer make out any words. He turns it off, scrunches up the sodden paper and throws it in the trash.

**Author's Note:**

> OK, so I might write a sequel to this one day but I'm done for now! I know this is a shitty ending for Cain, but I couldn't see it going any other way for him. D:


End file.
